A Love Hate Thing
by manie88
Summary: Mid Season One. Logan asks Veronica to help find his mother and goes off from there. Also, I changed the rape storyline... A healthy mix of LoVe banter and drama. Switches P.O.V.'s.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Tick Tock...

The thing about the whole tick-tocking thing is that it's not even happening. What we have here is a digital clock and my overactive imagination, the bi-product of which is keeping me from getting any sleep.

Tick Tock...

Sometimes you wish your own mind would shut up.

Veronica Mars with her psuedo-punk, flippy hair and her Nancy Drew 'tude, she has a way of making you dislike her.

_Look at me with my natural highlights and my fucking hero complex._

Veronica Mars. What the hell kind of a name is that anyway?

Bitch.

_My last name is Mars and I live in Neptune!_

Isn't that cute? Her damn astronomy themed life.

Tick Tock...

Five-two with an avalanche of baggage. Why am I even thinking about her?

She could pass for relatively cute if she didn't talk so damn much.

Flashback

Lily laughed. The way she laughed was always complete, and always true. She was what you'd call genuine. Simple. She lived her life to amuse herself and made mistakes without conviction.

Lily was complete.

When she laughed, it was deep from her gut and tears would spring from her scrunched eyes.

"Have you ever kissed another girl?"

I used to love 'Truth or Dare'.

"Dude!" cried Duncan "Come on…there are some things I don't wanna know about my sister..."

"Well do you mean besides mine and Veronica's late night experimentations?" she retorted. The tease. She never really answered a question.

"_Dude!_"

"Sorry Duncan..." Veronica conceded with a smirkingly fake apologetic look plastered on her face "It's seems that in a very soap opera-esque turn of events my adolescent identity crisis has led me to the considerably less hairy arms of your sister."

She shrugged, all cute-like "Oops."

Veronica Mars.

She could pass for relatively clever if she wasn't so damn annoying.

With her flippy hair. Dammit.

Tick Tock...

What I would very much like right now, is to get some sleep, a luxury that's coming to be increasingly scarce for me.

Late at night, I remember my mother.

I remember Lily.

Late at night, I hate my father and I hate my life.

Late at night, I think about what I did to her and I smile like the sick little dog I am.

Late at night, sometimes, I'm even sorry.

Sometimes I almost cry.

And when I do, I think, I remember, that I hate her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

There's a crack on my ceiling I know wasn't there before. I think it's growing everyday.

I'm lying here and I'm thinking, maybe I should grab a chair and start measuring it in weekly intervals. Conduct some sort of experiment. Okay, so I'm neurotic.

The crickets are deafening with their midnight chatter.

The troubled, eccentric insomniac hearing crickets late at night; I know. I'm a cliché.

I haven't gotten a good night's sleep for just about over a month.

Used to be I would stay up late thinking about a case, thinking about a paper, a boy (okay a Duncan). I would think about Lily and how things used to be.

Used to be I would miss my mom and get hit with a late night smell of nostalgia. I would resent the 09ers and be annoyed that I should even care what they thought of me.

Now I'm thinking, Is it just me or does Logan look sort of like Edward Norton?

00 (Flashback) 00

"He walked into my office like a cool breeze on a summer day," I did my best Humphrey Bogart, looking up from my trig homework "And from the minute I saw him, I knew he'd be trouble..."

"Nice," he smirked.

"We're studying '30s film noir in my Analysis of Film class," I shrugged.

"I know. I'm in it."

"Are you?"

"Would you cut it out for a second?" The thing about Logan is that his mood switches in the blink of an eye.

"What do you want?"

"Your assistance."

"Excuse me?"

He framed my face in the square of his thumbs and index fingers and grinned. "Veronica Mars, The Poor Man's Encyclopedia Brown."

"This is you asking me for a favor? Cuz you're bad at it."

He whipped out his wallet. "Name your price."

"For associating with you?" I mulled it over, "Gee, if you arrange it that my I.Q. drops fifty points."

"I need your help." Logan's sincerity is about as volatile as his smirk, and everything about him makes me a little nervous.

I think my voice softened even though I didn't mean for it to. "What do you need?"

He threw a lighter on my desk, silver and engraved _'Free At Last.'_ "It belongs to my mother"

Note the use of Present tense. This is what you'd call Denial.

"It's a Korean War remnant of her dad's." he added, "She always kept it in her purse."

"Yeah?"

He sighed, "Listen. She knew I know about that. This is a sign-a clue, whatever. It's _something_." 

"Logan..."

"Whatever. I don't care if you think I'm insane, but I know she's alive," he insisted "She's just... _Free_. I need you to help me find her."

"I don't--"

"Geez, at least try. I'll pay you," he paused, and rested his head in his hands for just a moment "_Please_."

00

With this brief moment of sincerity I'm supposed to disregard that he's been a jackass to me for the past year.

I've been in love with Edward Norton ever since he beat the crap out of that blond guy in Fight Club.

Crickets.

Logan with his stupid smirk and troubled rich boy 'tude, he has a way of making you dislike him.

Late at night, I'm thinking, what is it about him that even warrants my pity. Logan, he's a prick in the proverbial sense of the word. And here I am thinking, maybe he's just a little misunderstood.

I'm buried in clichés.

Of course I said I'd help him. The damn Bleeding Heart that I am.

Can too barely grudging casual acquaintances- slash- former associates of one Lily Kane (now deceased) solve the mystery of the suicidal trophy wife? Here's a reality show waiting to happen. Maybe I'll auction it to U PN. They'll buy anything.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: The quote "Annoy, tiny blonde one... annoy like the wind..." We all know that doesn't belong to me.

**Chapter 3 — Logan's P.O.V.**

Knock knock.

"Shit," says her perky little voice from the other side. "Hold on!"

She abruptly opens the door, hopping on one foot, and putting a shoe on the other, in a tiny cherry-red dress with the strap falling off the shoulder she's balancing a phone on; and in her frustration she mutters, "Damn shoe-What do you want?"

Before I have a chance to answer, whoever she's calling picks up the other end.

"Hey, Wally! Break out your tux-we're going par-_tay_ing" she grins hopefully into the phone. "What-sorry! Geez, I thought we were at the point of nicknames. You can call me Ronnie or something-"

Flushed and obviously a bit caffeinated, she raises her finger to indicate that she's almost done. "You know, we can't call you a sidekick if you're not there to kick it at my side."

Ha.

She sighs, "No, it's all right... I'll just cry and cry and cry without you there... Kay. Bye."

"Yes?" she asks, reaching behind her to zip up her dress, "What do you need?"

I'm just standing here, giving her a once over as she struggles with the zipper.

"What?" she shrugs "Undercover..."

"_Helllooo, Sydney Bristow!_"

She rolls her eyes and turns around, "Shut up and help me out here."

"It's stuck," I mumble, tugging at the zipper. As I'm trying to break it free, I maybe pull it down a little further than I have to. The edge of her black, chick briefs. How cute.

Gliding it up, I let my knuckles trace the curve of her spine, until I hear a sharp intake of breath. A blush creeps up her cheeks and I smirk.

The way I have of skirting the edge of her nerves, _well_; there are few other thrills in my life.

She turns around and cocks her head to the side, "And what are _you_ doing here?"

"And where are _you_ headed in that little number, Ronnie?" I imitate her "And did I hear something about you needing a sidekick?"

00

"So Joel thinks his dad is cheating with their cook?"

"Yup"

"What's the party for?"

"Anniversary, " she replies, painting on her cherry red lipstick. I managed to convince her that maybe my car would fit in better with that crowd.

"I don't get why you have to go though."

She whips out a tiny metal compartment from her purse and grins, "This should assist me in learning a tad bit more about my clients."

"A bugging device?"

"Several."

"You wouldn't happen to use these on people you know?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

00

"Just hang out okay? I'll be right back."

"Yes Ma'am" I salute her, teasingly.

"Don't. Cause any trouble, Kay?"

"I won't! Go forth and annoy, tiny blonde one." I nudge her lightly on her shoulder "Annoy like the wind..."

"Bite me."

Lowering to kiss her cheek, I whisper in her ear, "Not even if you paid me, Babe."

"Love you, Logan." she grits through her teeth.

"Love you harder."

Veronica Mars, she shakes her head when I wink at her and offers me a smile before disappearing behind some door; I'm thinking, with her hair down like that, she looks a bit like Lily.

I'm thinking, I miss her flippy 'do, and I miss disliking her, and I'm so damn sorry.

I'm thinking, I need a drink.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 — Logan's P.O.V.**

Imported cheese? Why, yes.

Finely aged wine? Lovely.

Open bar? Kick ass.

The sidekick thing is working out fine.

Anywhere there's an open bar and a delightful collection of negligent adults, I can feel right at home.

Uh-oh. Mr. Newman is heading for the study. Is that the door Veronica slid behind, only a few minutes ago?

Boy, does he look peeved.

Leaving my drink on top of the buzzing piano, I make my way through the crowd, hurrying to make it in there before he can.

"Heads up, Sherlock!"

"Huh?" she replies, looking up from the little microphone, placed discreetly behind a dusty pen holder.

The door knob twists, and before I have a chance to explain, she lifts herself on the desk and pulls me quickly in her arms. Her legs wrapped around my waist, the door cracking open, and an inch from her face, I'm thinking, her breath smells like cinnamon gum.

"Who the fuck are you!"

A smirk spreading on my mouth, I'm thinking, I bet that's what her tongue would taste like.

"Ah, Mr. Newman!" she exclaims, her voice raised by an octave with nasal undertones. Ha.

Before I have to pull away, I burrow my cheek into her neck and leave a sloppy, wet kiss, just to see her shiver.

Yeah, the sidekick thing is working out fine.

"What the hell are you two doing here!" his brows furrowed, Mr. Newman doesn't much look like the sympathetic type.

"Oh my gosh! I totally never, _ever_ do stuff like this!" She raises her hands to her face in mock panic. "My boyfriend--I mean _fiance_!" she giggles, glancing at me all googly-eyed "Well, like- he's Zack by the way. I'm Kelly, and oh my gosh! I swear, I _never_ do stuff like this!"

She giggles again, and hops off the table. "We're not exactly officially engaged-we're like _pre_-engaged and he was just being super sweet and we just wanted to be alone for a sec-"

"You're Joel's friends?" he interrupts.

"Yup!" she nods earnestly, stopping abruptly and gritting her teeth when I place a possessive hand on the curve of her ass and leave it there.

I'm what you'd call, resourceful. An opportunist.

I'm what you'd call a jackass.

"Well... this is my study..." he scratches his head.

"Oh! Right. I'm _so_ sorry-I never do stuff like this, I swear! Tell him, I never do stuff like this..."

She looks at me expectantly. "Uh... right. She never does stuff like this. Now come on, Sugarpuss... let's leave the nice man alone..."

"Kay, Honeybunches," she narrows her eyes.

Behind us we hear Mr., Newman say to himself, "That was weird."

Veronica throws my hand off her butt, pulls away, and crosses her arms in agitation. "_Sugarpuss?_"

"_Honeybunches?_"

"Remind me never to marry you," she turns to walk away.

"Hey, Veronica," I grab her arm.

"What?"

"Never marry me."

Rolling her eyes, she says "I'm heading to the kitchen; just watch out. Oh, and lay off the drinking."

I follow her to the doors of the kitchen, waiting behind her as she peeks inside. "Shit, it's packed."

"Caterers? In the kitchen! During a party! Positively ludicrous, I say! Pandemonium, it is!"

She squeals upon hearing the sound of my voice. "Didn't I tell you to wait!"

"Did you just squeal? Cuz that was adorable. Hey, have you ever seen 'Deliverance'?"

"Ew, Logan." she shakes her head in annoyance. "Didn't I tell you to scamper off? Go. Enjoy your youth."

"How am I supposed to do that without either drinking excessively or bugging you?"

"Ugh."

"Hey" I lean in and whisper.

"What?"

"There's a cart... we can hide underneath and wait for someone to roll us on in, and it would be totally Mary-Kate and Ashley mystery solvers of us."

"I don't know what's sadder: The fact that I got that reference or that you made it," she glanced at the cart in the corner "Okay. But I get to be Ashley."

"What? Why?"

"Cuz I rather enjoy the privilege of nutrition, thank you very much." she quipped, ducking under the white sheet. "Hey, you can't fit in here."

"Fine, I'll be at the bar."

"Logan!" the soufflé hissed "Don't get into any trouble!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..."

Veronica Mars with her hero complex, I'm thinking, I kinda like the way she smells.


End file.
